


love her,

by awespiring



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: AND ALSO SEX, Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Heavy flirting, Pillow Fights
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-10
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2020-06-26 01:01:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19757362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awespiring/pseuds/awespiring
Summary: Pillow fights? Never a good idea.





	love her,

“Hey Spider-Boy, _catch_.”  
 _  
_Peter is met with a pillow to the face when he looks up, assuming it came from across the bed where MJ was pulling up and tucking in the sheets. Peter would never admit it, but he slept like a maniac—and he was all over the place, so occasionally his pillow would end up on her side of the bed. You’d think he would have gotten used to a pillow to the face by now, but no.

“Spider-Boy?” Peter arches a brow in question, looking at his longtime girlfriend from across their shared bed. “That’s new.”

“But it fits, don’t you think?” MJ asks, teasing him.

“You weren’t saying that last night.” Peter says under his breath, pulling his side of the sheets up as well. There’s silence on her end, which causes Peter to look up.

MJ’s mouth was hanging open slightly, baffled at the nerve her boyfriend had to say something like that.

“You _little_ shit.” She replies snidely, throwing the discarded shirt hanging on their bed frame at his face.

“I’m not wrong.” He says proudly, snatching the shirt from where it had magically managed to stick to his chest, disobeying all laws of gravity. He could relate. “Am I?”

“Oh, shut up.” She scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest. Usually, she would make a comment about one of those stupid shirts Peter would throw in every morning—though she secretly loved them—but he was standing in front of her completely shirtless and forgive her for being a little distracted. Okay, maybe more than a little.

“See something you like?” Peter teases, looking down at his chest, unabashed. “Something you _want_?”

“Not a chance, idiot.” MJ tells him, crinkling her nose in annoyance. She grabs one of the throw pillows and chucks it at Peter’s chest. “I would literally give you the shirt I’m wearing just to shut you up.”

“Then do it.” Peter challenges.

Problem is, she’s wearing his shirt. And that’s the only thing covering her naked body besides the pair of underwear she had on. Peter always told her those were his favorite—those simple black cottoned ones that cling to her curves and show off just how cute her but actually is, plus it gave a great view of her legs. He wasn’t complaining, not in the slightest.

“I’m waiting.” Peter manages to interrupt her thoughts and she huffs, reaching for the hem of her—his shirt.

She immediately notices his adamant attention, the way his eyes followed her movement. They flirted all the time, this wasn’t new—but she wasn’t going to let him win this one.

MJ waits until she’s got the shirt high enough that he can see the underside of her breasts before quickly reaching across the bed to grab his pillow and smack him in the face with it.

“What the—what the hell, MJ?” Peter asks, voice muffled by the hand holding his mouth, caressing his jaw.

“Oh don’t even—I barely even hit you.” MJ scoffs, hitting him lightly in the chest, and then once more, and a few more times until he finally has a reaction.

“That’s it.” Peter says, pushing her back on the bed and slapping on his web shooter in almost the same motion. He always kept them by his bedside, but that was nobody’s business but there own. He quickly webs a pillow from the chair shoved in the corner over their room and playfully slaps the pillow against her mid-section. He knows he’s a lot stronger, so he always forces himself to hold back in the rare occasion that he gets too rough. Not that MJ really cared, she knows Peter wouldn’t hurt her on purpose or unless she seriously asked.  
MJ falls into a fit of laughter, her legs curled up under her but as she rolls to her side on the bed, letting Peter get in a few good hits before she grabs the pillow above her head and reels back, smacking him in the stomach. He doesn’t expect it, so when the pillow goes flying out of his hand he’s quick to turn and pick it up. But MJ is faster, hitting the pillow against his ass repeatedly and then once in his back for good measure.

“Are you serious, right now?” Peter laughs, grabbing the pillow and swatting it against her head softly, causing her curls to cover her face messily. “A pillow fight?”

“You weren’t telling me to stop.” MJ argues, shrugging her shoulders. She shakes the hair out of her face before returning a hit to him, almost like a little back and forth game of ‘ _You hit me, I’m gonna hit you harder_ ’. 

“Too busy staring at my chest to see it coming.”

“Poor choice of words, M.” Peter teases, tilting his head to the side and using his arms to defend himself when the pillow comes at him. “I definitely would have.”

“You’re a little shit, Spider-Boy.” MJ challenges, smacking the pillow out his hand with her own.

“Stop calling me that.” He chuckles, sprinting towards her to toss her waist over his shoulders, giving her the perfect shot at his behind.

“Put. Me. Down.” MJ threatens, wiggling against him after each word, trying desperately to hit him with the pillow to let her go. “Peter, I will _literally_ pull your shorts down. I’m not kidding.” She tells him after a moment because now she’s dangling there like a fish, moving her hips to get away, but Peter has too tight of a hold for her to escape. 

“Nice try, but that wouldn’t stop me.” Peter counters, walking her towards the bed and tossing her down on her back. She lands with an ‘oof’ and a look of pure evil, intent on murdering him.

MJ reaches out in an instant and grabs the waistband of his cotton shorts, pulling him in her direction, but quickly tosses him under her so she can climb on top. She grabs another pillow, straddling his mid-section, and lets him have it.

“MJ, MJ I have to get ready for class–we can’t do this.” His voice is muffled by the pillow when he finally manages to grab hold of it. “I can’t be late again.”

“We have the same first class.” She argues, “We can be late together.”

“All because of a pillow fight?” Peter asks, face still obscured by the pillow. 

MJ thinks for a second, wondering what they would tell the professor other than just a ‘Oh, I slept past my alarm’. But Peter takes that as an opportunity to grab her by the hips and flip them over so he’s above her, throwing that stupid pillow across the room. 

“If we’re late,” Peter whispers into her ear, trailing a gentle hand under her shirt, squeezing at the soft spot above her hip bone, “let’s make it _worth_ it.”

“Are you propositioning me with sex, Peter?” MJ laughs, shoving his face away from her ear playfully.

“I don’t hear you disagreeing to it.” 

Well, _fuck_. 

MJ shrugs and lifts her leg to rest against his backside, using the heel of her foot to pull him forward. “Definitely not disagreeing to that.” She tells him, winding her fingers in his wild hair, pulling him up so she can look at him. 

MJ used to think that men hated when women were a little rough with them, but Peter was different species _entirely_ , she had learned. He almost praised it to the point that MJ felt herself losing control over herself a bit. But, she was just happy they could have fun with each other and not be insecure about that stuff they liked. Peter wasn’t very vocal, but she had learned what made him tick, what could really get him going and bring a reaction out of him.

She tightens her grip and brings his lips to her own, head drawn taught so he didn’t have much room to move aside from where she guided him. Their kisses are hot and rushed like they’re running a marathon and racing toward the end. They didn’t have much time, but they had this down to a science. It wasn’t the first time they were late for class and it sure as hell wasn’t going to be the last.

Peter loses himself against her mouth, using his hands to pull her own away from where they were twisted in his hair, securing both wrists to the comforter, rendering her practically helpless. She didn’t care. And she definitely didn’t mind the relentless grinding against her still, _unfortunately_ , covered crotch. He presses himself against her more prominently, nipping at her bottom lip and swallowing the gasp that escapes her mouth at the action. He lazily uses a hand to push the stray hair out of her face, resting his palm gently against her forehead. She’s staring at him with half-lidded eyes, lips already puckering in response to his pull back. Peter laughs before diving back, kissing with fervor and grunting every time his dick caught just the right angle against her thigh, causing him to pull her in closer–so inhumanly close that she thought they were going to melt together.

“Clothes, you _animal_.” She breathes out when they finally break apart, “We’re not two teenagers trying to dry-hump each other.” Peter laughs at that and thinks back to all the times MJ and he had done just that. 

Soon, they’re nothing but two natural, naked bodies resting against one another. Peter hesitantly connects his lips against the sensitive skin connecting her neck and collarbone, sucking against a hollow spot, all while using his free hand to spread her hips open wider. MJ follows his movements, letting him adjust her body to his liking.

She squeals a little when his hand finally cups her bare warmth, dragging a couple of fingers through the wetness that had already gathered there. He loves being a tease, MJ had learned. She moans openly when he begins to tease her opening, dragging his fingers back over her clitoris in one full swipe, using familiar, circular motions to draw even more sounds out of her. He would do it until she was panting, begging for a release, but she just doesn’t have time for this right now.

“Peter, if your dick isn’t inside me in like, the next thirty seconds, I’m leaving you with blue balls the rest of the morning.” MJ huffs out, stilling his hand but not pulling it away. 

“But–” Peter begins to argue and quickly shuts up when MJ glares at him. Peter was never one to cheap out on pleasuring her, first and foremost. But, she was too horny for all this. 

And when Peter is finally sheathed inside of her, they both breath a sigh of relief.

“Oh, thank _god_ for birth control.” Peter groans, enjoying the feeling of her around him, _all_ her. MJ laughs and slaps his shoulder, to which Peter just ducks his head and kisses her temple.

Peter doesn’t start off slow and MJ is thankful for that. They had gotten so used to each other’s bodies that they didn’t need to ask for fast or slow, rough or gentle. Peter took MJ’s cues and acted accordingly and by the way she was panting, arching her back and displaying her breasts to him was all Peter needed to snap his hips forward–deep, rough, and calculated. And then it happens, over and over again, almost to the point where MJ is in tears over the amount of pleasure flooding her body, feeling like every nerve-ending was about to combust.

“Fuck, MJ.” Peter groans, wrapping both hands under her shoulders to pull her body against his own, allowing her to meet his thrusts. It made everything so much more intense. “I _need_ –I need you to–”

MJ doesn’t even let him finish his sentence before she’s beckoning him to flip over, bodies disconnecting for a brief moment before she’s sinking down against him again. 

And _god_ , did he love her. There was nothing more perfect than her, right now, at this moment.

He forcefully grabs her ass in his hands, moving her in constant rhythm with himself and giving him a full view of her body. What a beautiful body it was, he constantly told her. The way she let her head fall back, exposing the length of neck, the way her curls threatened to tickle his thigh when she would lean back. He was so happy she had grown her hair out since high school, he was even happier that sometimes when she would twist her hair up high and replace her hand with his own and give him ‘ _the look_ ’–man, that _sent_ him.

Their breathing had developed from small moans and groans to full on grunting, accompanied by the constant banging of the headboard against their bedroom wall. And when MJ’s orgasm overtakes her, it’s completely by surprise. She could have sworn she blacked-out at some point because when she comes to Peter is rising up to pull her body flush with his own, delivering a few final weak thrusts before he’s there, panting against her neck as his body tries to catch up with what just happened.

“Okay, that’s definitely in the top ten.” MJ says when she finally catches her breath, lifting herself off of him with shaky legs.

“Of what?” Peter laughs, falling back on the bed in exhaustion as he watches MJ trail to the bathroom, giving him a full view of her naked backside.

“You know damn well.” MJ tells him before shutting the bathroom door.

“Can we just take a sick day?” Peter asks in defeat, laughing when he hears MJ snort from behind the door. “Have another pillow fight or something?”

“Oh, so it’s okay when it leads to sex but not when I just want to do it for fun?” MJ asks when she finally enters their room again. “That’s not fair.”

“Life’s not fair.” Peter tells her, grabbing the pillow laying by his feet and tossing it in her direction.

“And you’re a bad influence, Bug Boy.” She snarks, picking up the pillow and taking a seat beside him on the bed.

“What? Is Spider-Man like a bad word now, or something?” Peter asks, shoving her playfully and snatching the pillow away to shove under his head.

“No,” She tells him, shaking her head, “You only get that on special occasions.” MJ teases, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

“Yeah and now I can’t hear that word without thinking back to–” Peter begins, but MJ quickly covers his mouth, using a finger to quiet him.

“Speak of it and it will never happen again.” MJ warns.

“Deal.” Peter complies, throwing his hands up in defense. He was so unbelievably and unashamedly whipped by Michelle Jones.

_Worth it._

**Author's Note:**

> i don't write smut for this very reason lmao. i'm so sorry.


End file.
